Fading Light
by Nefertam
Summary: Trinity Heights Mental Institution has been abandoned for over three decades. That is, until a select group of unique young people receive letters inviting them to the opportunity of a lifetime. What will happen as twenty supernatural creatures are admitted to the asylum after years of abandonment—in a competition for their lives? (SYOC OPEN; might change to M for horror)
1. On the Way

"Trinity Heights Mental Institution was established in 1868 by wealthy philanthropist James Morrow. Civil War veteran and pioneer in the psychiatric field. It was Morrow who..." Caleb took off his earphones and glanced over the crappy pleather headrest to see the passenger sitting next to him. The older woman had just poked his shoulder.

"The pilot just made an announcement. He said to put electronic devices away," the woman explained.

"Thank you," Caleb responded. He folded his tray-table up, switched his iPad off, and shoved it into his backpack. A piece of paper grazed his hand inside the bag, a letter that he had poured over at least two dozen times in his family room back home.

 _"No strings attached?" Caleb's mother had asked him over and over, in utter disbelief that such an offer was possible._

 _"No strings attached," Caleb would reply every time._

Caleb pulled the letter from his bag, unfolding the folded and crumpled paper in his lap.

" _Dear Lucky Recipient,_

 _In today's day and age, academic excellence is a true rarity. It is a gift that our offices have found in you. Don't miss out on a great opportunity. In reward for your outstanding record and activity in society, our association is willing to pay for a week stay at Trinity Heights Suites. Modern accommodations meet Victorian class and style in our brand new hotel renovated from a historic location. As part of this all-inclusive reward vacation, you will not need to pay for a single thing, including airfare. Consider this a treat from our family to yours. Enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime trip just in time for the Holiday Season._

 _-Sincerely,_

 _Trinity Heights"_

Caleb folded the letter back up and slipped it into his backpack. Originally the letter had come with a financial and legal statement, as well as a brochure for the hotel itself, but Caleb had left those at home. It really was a miracle that he was allowed to go on the trip in the first place. Of course at first his mother thought the entire trip was a scam. Some cheap fake sweepstake to make a quick buck. It was only after Caleb had made the effort to fact check the credibility of the letter and its financial accompaniments (thank God his friend's dad was a lawyer) did she even consider it. And even then it took weeks to finally work her up to a point that she begrudgingly agreed.

Now here Caleb was, sitting on a flight to Massachusetts. Of course he never told his mom what the letter meant by "historic location"; that Trinity Falls was, in fact, at one point an asylum for the criminally insane before it became a hotel. Of course that was all the more reason Caleb wanted to go. Spending a week in a hotel potentially haunted by the ghosts of crazy people sounded like a great life plan.

In the week leading up to the trip, Caleb had pumped himself up by watching horror movies with a few friends, packing his bags, and making sure there would be no full moon in the week he'd be gone. The last thing he wanted to do was go berserk and ruin the entire trip for himself and the other guests.

"We will be landing in about five minutes. It is currently about thirty degrees in Pittsfield, so bundle up out there. Thank you for choosing Courage Airlines, and we hope that you fly with us again soon."

 **XxXxX**

 **Welcome ladies and gentlemen to a new horror SYOC presented by none other than me! So for this story, teenagers and young adults of supernatural origin are called to Trinity Heights, an old asylum, for purposes unknown. Something sinister lies underneath the promise of an enjoyable time, and it might just happen that our characters will have to fight for their lives to ever see the sun again...**

 **This story is loosely based on Total Drama, mostly because it will involve a gameshow-esque competition. Before I get to the submission form, let me lay down a few rules:**

 **1\. No perfect characters! Also no overpowered OCs. I will not accept your character if they are.**

 **2\. Your character must be some kind of supernatural being (i.e. a sorcerer, vampire, angel, etc.) I encourage you to be creative with this!**

 **3\. I will be accepting a maximum of ten boys and ten girls. Please do not hate or complain if your character is not selected for the story.**

 **4\. Please review often, and, if necessary, give me critique! I will never be emotionally hurt if you have constructive advice for my stories!**

 **5\. Please use my submission form only for your OCs and please only pm your submissions, as I will not accept characters from the reviews!**

 **6\. You can see which characters are accepted in the** ** _cast list_** **chapter. I will not be starting the official story until I have received every character**

 **Now for the form!**

Name:

Nickname:

Age:

Gender:

Stereotype:

Nationality:

Ethnicity:

Species:

Appearance (I expect this to be very detailed. Include weight, height, physique, hair, eyes, and facial description):

Clothing (one casual outfit. Include any accessories):

Personality (also expected to be very detailed):

History (include about their past as a supernatural):

Skills:

Weaknesses:

Hobbies:

Habits/Quirks:

Powers:

Power Weaknesses:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Fears

Types of People they like:

Types of People they dislike:

Quotes (4 things they might say):

Other facts about them (answer at least 5):

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.


	2. Cast List

**Hello again devoted readers! Here is the cast list for _Fading Light_! I have one quick note about submissions. Some of the applications I have received are quite under-detailed in crucial sections. For me to accurately portray your OCs, I really need a lot of information, so please take your time on your apps! Also, I really would prefer you guys stick with supernatural creatures as opposed to demigods. I have already received a few of these and they aren't quite what I'm looking for. Finally, if you weren't aware, YOUR OC MAY DIE! Thanks again! **

Males:

1\. Caleb Ghatz, The Boy Nextdoor, Werewolf

2\. Hinoki "Cy" Cypress, The Curious Nature Spirit, Hamadryad/Dryad

3\. Chance Montgomery, The Corrupted Angel, Fallen Angel

4\. Eliade "Lenten Rose", The Philosopher, Daemon

5\. Ignacio Inglesias, The Skater, Fire Elemental

6\. Casimir van der Fjord, The Romantic, Nokken

7\. Elijah "Eli" Killian, The Intellect, Sorcerer

8\. Theodore "Theo" Letum, The Smirking Hippie, Necromancer

9\. Brenden Raynard, The Recluse, Trickster

10\. Atticus Moore, The Charmer, Dhampir

Females:

1\. Syelle "Elle" Rose, The Beautiful Fool, Siren

2\. Dana Adams, The Brain, Lioness Djinn

3\. Calida "Cali" Wikolia, The Hot Head, Fire Elemental

4\. Anastasia Beauregard, The Macabre Oddity, Demon

5\. Rosalind Beauchamp, The Princess, Futakuchi-onna

6\. Ivory "Ivy" Moreau, The Snarker, Witch

7\. Mae Denver, The Mother Hen, Clairvoyant

8\. Alya Qamar, The Awkward Perfectionist, Jinn

9\. Sloan Valentine, The Guarded, Hellhound

10\. Victoria "Tori" Brown, The Saint, Angel


	3. Arriving at Trinity Heights

"The architecture of Trinity Heights follows the Kirkbride Plan, developed in 1854. In this architectural design, a mental institution comprises of one central building connected to two wings on either side, which housed patients. If one were to look upon the exterior of the Graham Building, the central building of the asylum, one might notice the gothic design, complete with arched, stained glass windows and a clock tower. The first floor of the Graham Building served as the administrative building of Trinity Heights. It was complete with four administrative offices, a conference hall, and a waiting room for incoming patients. If one were to open the massive imported oak entrance doors of the Graham Building, one would find themselves in the reception hall, from which he or she would be able to find the aforementioned administrative offices.

The upper floor of the two-storied Graham Building served as a living quarters for residential office members. James Morrow himself commissioned a lavish bedroom to be made for his extended stays at Trinity Heights. The second floor also held a Victorian dining hall, two bathrooms, a small kitchenette, five bedrooms, including Morrow's, and two stairwells, one leading down to the administrative offices, and another leading up into the clock tower.

If one were to glance at the windows of Trinity Heights, he or she might notice that even the stained glass panels of the Graham Building have been reinforced by thick steel rods. James Morrow wanted to be certain that no violent patient could escape from any building, including the Graham Building, and he ensured that every safety measure be in place to prevent any escape attempts. In addition to the barred windows and seven foot tall concrete walls surrounding the entire campus of Trinity Heights, it is rumored that Morrow commissioned tunnels to be built connecting the entirety of the hospital under ground. These tunnels are believed to run underneath the Graham Building, and connect to the St. James Chapel, the nurse housing, the patient dormitories, and the Psychiatric Treatment Center. Although the Graham Building itself also connects to the dormitories aboveground, Morrow would have taken every precaution to protect his doctors and nurses from potentially violent patients by allowing them to travel in the underground tunnels undetected.

Our next location is the Chapel. The last building to be constructed on the Trinity Heights campus, the St. James Chapel was officially opened in 1912, and—"

Caleb slipped off his earphones. The taxi cab had driven over a speed bump way too fast, and as the cab bounced to the ground, Caleb had hit his head on the window next to him.

"Ouch! Would you mind slowing down a little?" He said, rubbing the now tender spot where his head collided with the glass.

"Sorry kid. I'm on a tight schedule," the driver responded in his gruff Bostonian accent.

Caleb considered a witty remark, but he let it go. The man didn't seem to be in much a mood for jokes anyway.

Sighing, he checked the time on his iPad. Seven twenty-nine; the reception dinner was scheduled to start at eight. Or so the cab driver had said. Apparently he had been paid by the hotel to make sure Caleb arrived on time.

"We'll be pullin' up in about five, kid," the cab driver said, almost as if he had read Caleb's mind. The boy pulled down the passenger-side overhead mirror and fixed his hair, raking the tangle of his wavy brown bangs to the left in some form of order. Most of the time Caleb took great care to look good, especially when he was going to meet new people, but after that plane ride, it would take him hours to clean up again. Instead he just resigned himself to however he was going to look when he pulled up to the hotel, hoping his wavy hair would look "hip" and his wrinkled hoodie presentable. He could only hope the hotel was warm enough for him to shed the frumpy outerwear; Caleb had chosen to wear his lucky t-shirt, a blue-grey number of some fancy cotton. With long sleeves which he normally pushed up the the elbows and a tight fit that formed to his body well, the shirt had to be one of the most expensive items of casual-wear he owned.

"Look up there," the cab driver nudged Caleb with his elbow. He leaned down to get a better look out of the grimy windshield. Up through dark tree branches that clawed at the sky like skeletal fingers, illuminated by spotlights, stood the creepiest building Caleb had ever seen in his entire life. One huge mansion topped with a tower dominated most of the view. It looked like some kind of medieval cathedral, large clock and stained glass and all. Flanking and connected to the mansion stood two identical wings, smaller buildings lined with two layers of arched windows and made entirely of a red brown brick, the color of dried blood. The documentary Caleb had watched was right; every single window was covered by what seemed like four bars, thick rods that looked pretty capable of keeping patients inside even if they managed to break a windowpane.

As snow began to fall, sprinkling the windshield with crystalline twinkles of light, Caleb had one thought.

That place didn't look like a hotel at all. It looked like an asylum.

 **XxXxX**

 **Another little sample chapter to introduce the asylum (and my writing style). I hope you guys are as excited for this story as I am! Now a few things regarding submissions. I want to thank everyone who has submitted so far. I've really enjoyed your characters! I have however received a surprising amount of guys as opposed to girls (and that's a first for me!) So I do need girls as well!**

 **This next note applies to guys and girls. I have received a lot of anti-human or human hating characters, which is fine for the characters I have already received with these traits, but I'm going to need human-like or human-loving characters as well, even though these characters are supernatural in nature.**

 **On a side note, the exterior of Trinity Heights is based on the infamous "Danvers State Hospital", an asylum known for its over-crowding problem.**

 **Thanks again for reading, and please review!**


	4. Graham Building: Part I

Chance always hated being the first person to a party. No way to judge the competition; socially speaking of course. Analyzing people was Chance's thing. How else would he be able to tell if he was going to have a good time?

Finding out Chance was the first guest to arrive was like being the only child awake on Christmas Day. All those presents lying under the tree, but you can't open them until the parents are awake. It was just disappointing.

It had actually taken Chance quite a while to find out he was the first to arrive. When the taxi cab pulled up to the wrought iron gates of the hotel, Chance had been kicked out. The driver had told him to walk the rest of the way. Chance had flipped him off.

To make matters worse, the hike–and it was a hike–to the Graham Building took at least thirty minutes across a cracked concrete walkway overgrown with weeds. Not to mention that as soon as Chance had started walking it had begun to snow. And it was freezing. And he was wearing shorts. And his bag was heavy.

So Chance was already thoroughly pissed by the time he trudged up the marble staircase to the large oaken doors of the asylum-turned-hotel, trudging his suitcase behind him the entire way. He tried to be polite and knock on the door, but impatience got the better of him and he gave the entrance a good shove. The door swung open with a resounding creak, echoing off rafters high overhead.

Chance stepped inside, glancing around in genuine surprise. Dead ahead, on a large guilded plaque hung on a gentle yellow wall, read the words "GRAHAM BUILDING: ADMISSIONS OFFICES". Looking around, Chance was astonished by the ornate decor of the seemingly practical building.

The floor was a checkerboard of alternating red and yellow tiles, edged in golden filigree. Warm lights filtered soft light from some overhead electrical source. The walls, like the tiles, were a marbled yellow. Columns supported the roof at evenly spaced intervals, and in the middle of the atrium stood a life-sized statue of a robed man–probably some Saint, Chance assumed.

The young man moseyed down the column-flanked hall, his every step bouncing back to him from the ceiling.

Skirting around the statue–which was apparently supposed to be St. James, according to a small bronze plaque–Chance noticed a directory nailed to the wall underneath the grand admissions office sign.

"Admissions offices 1 and 2, Wards A, B, and C, cafeteria–that way," Chance murmured to himself, following the directory's arrows, which in turn pointed down a much smaller hallway. Well, smaller compared to the column totting entrance hall.

"Admissions offices 3 and 4, Wards E, F, and G... Ah there we go! Stairwell. That way," Chance looked to the right this time, down a carbon copy of the other small hallway. It was going to be too easy to get lost in this place.

Chance hummed to himself as he meandered down the hallway, taking his time. While he was all for exploring, it was no fun alone. This particular hallway was lit by ugly fluorescent lights, the bright white kind commonly used in hospitals. _I knew they'd be here somewhere_ , Chance thought sarcastically, chuckling to himself. Finally, he found himself at a fork in the hallway. In the middle another directory. This time he followed the arrow that pointed right, towards the first staircase. Also lackluster in comparison to the atrium, the stair case was simple concrete covered over with linoleum, or some other cheap plastic. Yellowed and stained, not to mention badly cracked, the stairs were far from a pretty sight and had Chance second guessing if he was using the right staircase after all.

That's when he heard the voices. Laughter. That's what it sounded like to Chance. Laughter or sobbing. Maybe both. It sounded like the voices were coming from upstairs and from down the hall Chance had just come from. _Finally,_ he thought, _more people_. Despite himself, Chance shivered a little.

"Hey!" The young man shouted to no one in particular. He looked up the stairs, then down the hall, then up the stairs again. The strange muffled voices continued. "Hell no," Chance murmured, finally choosing to abandon his current mission of going upstairs for the prospect of finding people in the well lit, welcoming entrance hall. Not that he was scared or anything. Not at all.

The voices did grow louder as Chance crept down the hall, the lazy saunter he walked with before now replaced by a tense gait. He could almost make out the words of conversation, but in the back of his mind he could still hear the crying laughter from the staircase. Turning back one more time as he walked, Chance let out a sigh as he found that he was not being followed–and almost ran straight into a teenage boy. The kid looked just as surprised as Chance felt, and while Chance was no sissy, it took all his effort not to jump out of his skin.

"What the hell!" Chance shouted at the kid. It took him a minute to realize that the kid had a friend, a pretty girl about Chance's age.

"Nice to meet you too," the girl replied with no small amount of good old fashioned teenaged angst.

"Sorry," Chance grumbled. "I was just a little surprised."

"No problem," the boy responded. "Caleb Ghatz," he said, holding out his had.

Chance accepted, gingerly shaking Caleb's hand. "I'm John, but you can call me Chance."

"Are you the only person here?" The girl asked. "'I mean, not that that's any problem. You look fun."

"That's Ella," Caleb said, nodding to the girl. Chance looked her over. She was pretty enough, sun kissed, like she came straight from the beach. She glanced at Chance from under long dark lashes with eternally blue eyes.

"Well, I was told we'd be having dinner, and after that plane ride, I think we could all use it," Ella remarked. As she passed Chance, she held out her arm.

"Escort me?" She asked with a breath of a voice.

Chance nodded, taking her arm in his. Caleb followed behind at a relaxed distance, not wanting to interrupt but equally not desiring to be left in the hall alone.

"Has anyone else noticed the lack of staff? Or other guests? Or anyone? 'Cause this place is giving me the chills," Caleb said.

Chance hadn't really thought about it too hard. Sure, it was strange that there was no one on the bottom floor. But then again, a lot of those ultra-fancy, antiquey hotels were short staffed. Plus with the sheer size of the hotel, it probably took any staff member forever to make it from one wing of the building to another. And didn't those letters say that all the guests invited this week were exclusively selected as part of some reward sweepstakes? Chance didn't bother himself with the subject any more; he was sure they'd run into someone _somewhere_.

"You work out a lot?" Ella asked, causally stroking Chance's shoulder with her free hand.

"Sports. I play soccer, football, and volleyball."

"I can tell," Ella breathed.

Caleb cleared his throat, clearly feeling awkward as the trio started to climb the cracked stairs.

"I heard somethi–some _one_ up here before I ran into you guys," Chance remembered, thinking of the weird laughter.

"Hotel staff?" Ella asked.

Chance shook his head. "Hell if I know." He shook his head again.

"Never got a chance to find out."

 **XxXxX**

 **Hello again! Hope you guys liked Part 1 of Chapter 1! As you guys can see from the cast list, there are still open slots for both boys and girls, so please keep sending OCs in. I do have to ask though that if you have already submitted one character and that character has been accepted, do not send in any more characters! Thank you! Now then, I should have mentioned this before, and it is completely my bad, but I will not be accepting any "dragon" characters, simply because I can't imagine seriously portraying a dragon in this story or setting. Anywho, thanks for reading and please review if you wish to comment on the story or chapters!**


	5. Graham Building: Part II

The cold was inconsequential to Lenten. The boy had no feeling of it, wandering into the snowstorm undeterred. The taxi driver had wished Lenten luck, for what reason the boy could not figure out. So, with an ominous feeling, Lenten proceeded, swinging the wrought iron gate of the hotel wide open.

The snow had begun to pick up its pace as he worked his way towards the main building. As he grew closer, however, the boy could feel an unmistakable heaviness; an oppressive darkness which hung in the air like a tangible velvet shroud. The boy was drawn not towards the mansion with all its stoney splendor, but off the cracked concrete path.

Lenten trudged through the light snowdrifts that covered Trinity Heights' front lawn, walking parallel to the main structure. It didn't take him too long to reach the side of the right wing of the building, and from there the impressive architecture blocked some of the blizzard.

From the side of the building, Lenten could see more structures, all connected in a circle around the main body of the asylum by stone pathways. Only one light shone in the dark plaza, one leading to a back door of the mansion, a fire exit Lenten presumed. In the very center of the ring of buildings was a garden courtyard, or at least the remains of one. Shriveled bushes, choked by weeds, poked their pathetic branches out of the snow like the claws of zombies digging themselves free of their graves. Leafless trees with gnarled branches twisted up all around the courtyard. Blackened vines crawled up a robed statue that appeared to have been a monk at some point. Now deep water marks left black tear stains from the statue's eyes, and it's hands, folded in prayer, were bound with the ropy vines. Lenten stared at the statue meditatively. _Everything is reclaimed by nature eventually,_ he thought speculatively.

Lenten took in the rest of his surroundings. Besides the main hotel building, he spotted an old church, a green house, the brick smokestack of some chimney furnace, and two or three other identical brick buildings indistinguishable from one another.

"This place feels dead," he muttered aloud.

"It is dead." Lenten spun around. There stood a boy, snow clinging to his mop of blonde hair. "The plants, the trees. Everything here is dead."

"So you felt it too?" Lenten asked, although it sounded more like a statement. The blonde boy nodded.

"I'm Hinoki. Hino, if you prefer."

"Lenten Rose, ever at your service. Let us not stay in such a sad place. Shall we go inside?" Lenten asked, nodding to the illuminated door.

Hino nodded, his shaggy bangs bouncing into his eyes.

The two made their way to the door. With one good tug, it creaked open in a cloud of rust and chipped paint.

The door opened into what appeared to be a waiting room of some sort. Grey-blue pleather couches lined two of the four walls, accompanied by squat coffee tables, each with their own lamp. A wooden cross hung on the third wall, in between a glass door and an old reception desk. A flower pot sat on the desktop.

"Poor little guy. He was left here to die," Hino remarked, taking the pot into his arms to get a better look at its dry brown flower.

 _"Hmm."_

Lenten's ears perked up at the hum. "Hino? Was that you?"

Hino looked up from his flower, brows knit in concern. "Was what me?"

"I could have sworn I heard a hum."

"A hum?" Hino asked, placing the flowerpot back on the counter.

Lenten nodded. "Like someone singing. Shh! There it is again."

Quick, short, almost tuneless Lenten observed. A hum with no purpose other than to fill some morose loneliness.

Lenten looked around, searching for the source. After a few minutes, Hino joined him, tilting his head as if to listen more closely for voices.

"It smells like death in here," Hino observed. Lenten was about to ask the boy what he meant, but then he caught it. A whiff of musk, like mothballs and stale air and dry roses.

"I suggest we find the dining hall. There is no point in staying here any longer, and it would seem that the hospital is telling us we aren't welcome here anyway."

Hino nodded, allowing Lenten to lead the way.

The first thing Lenten noticed about the hallway outside the reception office was that it felt less heavy. The smell of staleness dissipated, morphing into the acrid scent of fresh floor polish. Well, at least the floor-tiles looked squeaky clean.

"It feels better out here," Hino muttered, almost so low that Lenten suspected the boy was talking to himself. Lenten adjusted his backpack and looked for some kind of sign to point him to the dining hall.

Luckily, it didn't take the duo long to stumble upon a staircase. A sign at the bottom of the stairs read "Directory", and fortunately pointed out that the dining hall was located on the second floor. About halfway up the first flight of stairs, Hino stopped.

"What's the matter?" Lenten asked.

Hino smiled. "I hear music."

Lenten listened. Sure enough he could hear the steady beat of the bass to some rapid pop song. "It sounds like we have found the party."

 **XxXxX**

 **Hello again readers! How did you like Lenten (Eliade) and Hino? Just so you guys know, past chapter 1 the chapters will be much longer. I've just divided chapter 1 into parts in order to introduce each character.**

 **A quick note regarding submissions. Submissions are still open, however I have recieved enough "demon characters," so any more from here on out will be rejected. Thanks for reading and review if you wish! Starting with chapter 2, I will be checking in with each of you so I know what your OCs think of the other characters and the current situation.**


	6. Graham Building: Part III

Ivy could tell the boy was a hippie. It wasn't the round vintage sunglasses or the beanie with a fricken black peace sign, his shaggy blonde bangs falling in his eyes. No; Ivy could tell by the pale boy's aura. He _felt_ like a hippie.

"So," the boy said, breaking the silence. "You listen to music?"

Ivy considered the question. "It's cool, I guess."

The boy, Theo, nodded. "Yeah mate. I love Fleetwood Mac. You hear any of their songs?"

 _Of course he likes Fleetwood Mac_ , Ivy thought, smiling. "I guess so. None really come to mind though."

The taxi cab hit a speed bump, causing the two to bounce a little in their condiment-stained seats. Theo adjusted his sunglasses.

"I hope this party isn't all fancy and shit. That's so boring," Ivy said.

"That's definitely not my scene," Theo agreed.

Ivy laughed. "Ten bucks says everyone there's going to be snobby, conceited rich kids. This party is going to be _great_."

Theo shrugged. "I just go with the flow. If you don't let the little things get to you, you'll have a lot more fun," he said in his light British accent.

"I like you, kid," Ivy smirked. "Oh wow. Look at that," she said, pointing out her window. Ahead, through the trees, was Trinity Heights, gothic tower and all, illuminated by yellow spotlights.

"We're just about there, kiddos," the cab driver called back.

It took all of two minutes to reach the huge wrought iron gates of the hotel. The entire campus of the once-asylum was enclosed by seven foot walls, which, Ivy noticed, were plaster smooth. It'd be virtually impossible to climb those.

As Ivy and Theo unloaded their luggage from the back of the cab, another car pulled up to the hotel. Ivy looked up from the trunk to see two people pile out, a girl and a boy.

Theo closed the trunk of the cab and the two went to meet the newcomers. Up close, Ivy could notice that both the boy and girl were similarly attractive, both dainty and graceful.

"Hey," Ivy said. "I'm Ivy, and this is Theo."

The girl looked at Ivy and Theo from under an elaborate sunhat decorated with roses.

" _Enchanté,_ " the girl said, although her polite tone seemed almost... _forced_. "My name is Rosalind."

She really was beautiful, Ivy noticed. All curly brunette ringlets bound in ribbon, plump pink lips, light blue eyes. Rosalind even wore a gorgeous vintage dress in lilac. She looked like a living doll.

"I am Casimir," the boy said. He too was beautiful in a nonconventional way. His pale skin seemed almost iridescent in the falling snow, and white flakes caught in his tousle of wavy black hair. His features were sharp, his body slender, and his face beyond handsome; in fact, it was more beautiful in the way a girl might be beautiful. "It is so good to meet you."

With that, Casimir enveloped Ivy in a warm hug, wrapping lean arms around her shoulders. Taken aback, Ivy debated recoiling or just letting the boy finish.

After a few seconds, to Ivy's relief, Casimir let go and moved on to Theo. The poor hippie boy looked shocked at first, but then he shrugged, and hugged back.

"Uh... We should go inside," Ivy said, still slightly in shock.

"Indeed. It is quite chilly out here," Rosalind agreed. Ivy could feel the properness in Rosalind's voice; years of poised elegance, shallow judgements, and lots of pampering.

It took the crew all of twenty minutes to finally trek to the front doors of the Graham Building, although Ivy had to admit they were moving really slow. Of course, this was mostly due to Rosalind relaying, in detail, her entire trip, including the plane ride and the airport. True to her nature, Ivy had taken every opportunity to interject snarky remarks, which had earned their fair share of nasty looks from Rosalind.

Ivy was honestly surprised she'd been let off the hook so easily. Given what she knew of Rosalind, which admittedly wasn't much, she would have expected the prissy girl to throw a tantrum.

Theo was the first one to climb the granite stairs of the Graham Building. He opened one of the the great oaken doors, holding it politely for the girls and Casimir.

Ivy gawked at the sight of the inside of the building. Grand marble columns supported the roof. Yellow walls lit by matching warm lights gave a comforting feeling to the entrance hall. A large statue of some robed Saint dominated the center of the atrium, illuminated with special care by floodlights.

"What decor! This place is gorgeous," Rosalind gasped. For once, Ivy didn't say anything.

Theo found the directory before anyone else. It seemed the boy had a penchant for being absolutely oblivious to his surroundings, which is why Ivy found it so ironic that he would be the one to find the way to the party.

"This place is abandoned," Theo said, taking the lead. Ivy nodded.

"They don't seem to have much in the way of staff. Like seriously, not even a bellhop?" She said.

"Bellhop? Who says bellhop anymore?" Theo asked.

"I think the word bellhop has an air of nostalgic whimsy," Rosalind remarked.

"Well. Not using that word anymore," Ivy muttered, just out of earshot.

The four youths walked down a hallway lit by sickly fluorescent lights. Theo claimed this was the way to the staircase, which in turn led to the party.

In this light, Ivy noticed Casimir's skin looked very... Strange. "You feeling okay bro?" She asked. "You look kind of green."

"It is the lighting. My skin is prone to such random changes," Casimir explained with ease, as if he'd been asked the question at least a thousand times.

"Oh, by the way, whatever deodorant you use, it's smells really good. Kinda perfumey, but not bad," Ivy commented, not afraid to be blunt.

"I don't wear deodorant."

"Oh. Are you sure?" Ivy asked, more than a little confused. The boy definitely smelled rosy, and she'd be damned if she were wrong.

"Quite positive," Casimir confirmed.

 _Maybe it's just Rosalind's froofy stink,_ Ivy thought, shaking her head. _She smells like a French whorehouse._

"There are terrible stories about Trinity Heights in its heyday. Did you know that?" Rosalind asked proudly. "I've heard that during the Second World War, one of the patients filched a trowel from the greenhouse. He went on a murder spree, killing orderlies and other patients indiscriminately. They shot the murderer, of course. Isn't that just ghastly?" Rosalind shook her head, her curled brown locks bouncing. "They called the killer 'The Gardener'."

"Why would you tell us that? This place is already friggen creepy enough!" Ivy exclaimed, even though she wasn't _really_ scared. Was she?

Rosalind whipped around to look at Ivy face-to-face, stopping in her tracks. "It's just a story, _ma chére._ No need to get flustered." While Rosalind's words were light and delicate, her eyes betrayed her inner rage, cold and unforgiving. Ivy stared straight back, defiantly.

"Oy! Why don't we all just settle down and head to the party?" Theo interjected.

And so they went.

 **XxXxX**

 **Another intro chapter down! Looks like there's already some drama, huh? Well expect much more in chapter two... And after that?**

 **Hell will break loose**

 **Anywho, submissions are still open, so if you are new to this story, hurry and send your application in 'cause there's only a few spots left!**

 **Thank you all for reading, and please critique/comment in the reviews!**


	7. Graham Building: Part IV

Cars sped past Brennan, gently lifting the tousle of his brunette hair. He sat on a bench outside Pitt Airport, praying that he had missed his taxi to Trinity Heights. It was cold outside, blizzard cold. Brennan hugged his arms around his thin chest, feeling the sharp ridges of his ribcage. His parents had told him he needed to eat more. Grief made that impossible.

In fact, it was grief and his parents that got him here in the first place.

"Hello! Is this seat taken?"

Brennan looked up. A massive girl hovered over him, wild black hair framing her olive face. A jagged scar ran from underneath of one greenish-gold eye. She looked like some kind of Amazon warrior woman from myth.

"Uh... No," Brennan muttered, hoping that the girl hadn't caught him staring.

"So you're stuck here too?" The girl asked, stretching out her long legs.

 _Please go away,_ Brennan thought, hoping by some divine act that the girl would leave or get picked up or something so that he could mope in solitude.

"Yeah. Waiting for the taxi," he replied after a long and very awkward silence.

"Me too!" The girl exclaimed. She had a gravelly voice; not unattractive, but almost like a purr... Or a growl. "Where are you headed?"

"Some party," Brennan mumbled.

The girl placed a hand on Brennan's shoulder. "No way! Trinity Heights?"

Brennan nodded, keeping his gaze locked on his feet and the ground.

"You know that place used to be a looney bin? They say a lot of people died there. Mostly of tuberculosis and other nasty diseases. Oh! I almost forgot," the girl said, smacking her hand to her forehead. "I'm Dana."

"Brennan," the pale boy muttered.

"Oh, also, my friend should be here any minute. Well, 'friend'. I just met her on the plane on the way over. Her name's Calida. She's going to the party too."

 _Great_ , Brennan thought. _More people._

"You know what? Why don't we all take the same cab over? That'd be fun, huh?" Brennan could _feel_ Dana smiling. "Fun. Yeah," he mumbled, rubbing his hands together. It was a habit Brennan had picked up to occupy his time and distract himself from unpleasant situations; usually the pain of remembering, but not always.

"There she is. Cali! Come over here and meet my new friend," Dana shouted, waving Calida over. Brennan looked up and turned around.

Cali was an attractive girl, like some kind of island princess. Her skin was a bronze color, her eyes almond shaped. She wore a thin red t-shirt, as if she couldn't feel the winter chill in the air. Brennan was wearing two layers, a tank top and a black sweater, and he was still freezing!

Dana shoved her hands into the pocket of her leather jacket. "This is Brennan. Brennan, Cali."

"Hey," Calida said, nodding curtly.

"How's it going?" Brennan replied.

A car horn honked.

Startled, Brennan jumped out of his seat.

"You kids goin' to Trinity Heights?" The cab driver was an older woman, leaning out of her open car window to shout to the trio.

"Yeah!" Cali shouted back, a little forcefully.

"Hop in," the woman said, jerking her head towards her car.

Dana shrugged and grabbed her suitcase, followed by Cali. Brennan seriously debated just staying where he was on the bench and finding somewhat to catch a flight home, but he thought better of the ludicrous scheme. Grabbing his own luggage, the scrawny boy followed the girls to the cab.

"Wait for me!"

The trio turned to look behind them.

A young man ran to catch up, dragging behind him a large suitcase. He was tall, about as tall as Dana, with a mop of purple hair.

"Cool hair, dude!" Dana called to the young man as he caught up. "Y'know, I've always wondered what I'd look like if I dyed my hair."

"How are you all doing?" The young man asked. "My name's Elijah. You can call me Eli."

"Hey! I'm Dana, that's Cali, and that's Brennan."

Brennan averted his gaze.

"Nice to meet you all. I hate to rush things, especially introductions, but it would appear that we are running late for the party. Shall we?" Eli gestures towards the cab, and while he loaded the trunk with his suitcase, everyone else took their seats.

Brennan tried to claim shotgun, but he was beat by the ever assertive Cali. Instead, Brennan was forced to take the center back seat, sandwiched in between the giants Eli and Dana, making even the average sized boy look small as the car zoomed off.

"I've heard some creepy things about this place. A lot of murders and stuff. There's this one story about a guy who killed a whole bunch of people with a shovel," Cali said, looking back over her shoulder.

"I heard it was a trowel," Dana said, tilting her head.

"Whatever. Anyways, there's another story about a bunch of nurses who killed themselves in the chapel. They went crazy taking care of their patients," Calida tossed her hair. "Then of course there are all the stories of the inhumane treatments... Shock therapy, ice baths, lobotomies. Trinity Heights was pretty messed up."

"Sounds like a very pleasant place," Dana scoffed.

 _So much for forgetting about death_ , Brennan thought to himself, sighing.

For the duration of the car ride, Eli read a book, Calida and Dana gossiped about the hotel, and Brennan sat and rubbed his hands, trying to tune them all out.

It was a mercy when the cab driver finally gave the five minute warning, and when the cab pulled up to the gates of the hotel, Brennan let out another sigh; a sigh of relief.

"I want to check out that chapel," Dana said as soon as all the luggage was unloaded.

"What? But the party's starting," Cali protested.

"It will only take a few minutes. I just wanna peek inside."

"Why don't you just wait until tomorrow? We are slated to stay here for the entire week," Eli said. Brennan agreed. Silently, of course.

"Because I want to know now. And nobody said you had to come."

Eli shrugged. "You're going in alone?" He asked.

"I'll go with her," Cali said.

"Alright then. I guess we will see you at the party," Eli said reluctantly.

And with that, it was settled. Brennan watched the two girls wander off in the snow, into the darkness and away from the safety of the hotel.

 **XxXxX**

 **Hello again, and Merry Christmas to all my readers! Only two more intro parts** **to go until Chapter 2! Hurrah!**

 **That also means that I only have a few spots left open, and only 1 spot left for men! In super excited for the upcoming chapters; things are going to get dark _fast._**

 **Soon I will be asking for your guys' characters' reactions to the other OC's, so keep an eye out! Also in chapter two will be teams!**

 **Finally, big thanks to reader "Cream of Ice" for the new cover pic! I am so grateful**

 **Thanks for reading, and, if you feel so inclined, please critique or review!**


	8. Graham Building: Part V

An orange sofa. The glaring light of the computer screen. The smell of cheap perfume and musty sweet smoke.

He sat behind the modest desk, staring and taking in his surroundings. He took another drag of his cigar, chuckling to himself, blowing out a puff.

Almost time to begin.

OoOoO

Anastasia sat in a cab with a boy she didn't care to get to know and a girl she didn't think would speak even if spoken to. Rather than trying to attempt awkward conversation with the duo in the back of the cab, Anastasia reviewed everything she knew about Trinity Heights Mental Institution on her phone.

"It is estimated that over thirty patients died a month of an outbreak of influenza in 1944. A little under half of the entire staff; orderlies, doctors, guards, and cooks; died of the disease. It was around this time that the prefrontal leukotomy, otherwise known as the lobotomy, was introduced to the asylum. A controversial practice from its conception, the lobotomy was a surgical operation with the aim of creating new grooves in the brain in order to change behavioral patterns and practices. In reality, while the operation sometimes limited the conditions of certain mental disorders, it also greatly inhibited emotional responses, reaction time, and mental activity. Many patients were forced to undergo the surgery, without consent from family members or the patients themselves.

In more primitive practices of the prefrontal leukotomy, an orbitoclast (which looked much like an ice pick) or similar apparatus was forced through a bone near the eye in order to sever long fibers connected to the frontal lobe.

Finally, over forty-five patients were murdered in Trinity Heights' existence. Twelve were murdered by the infamous 'Gardener' killer, who was also responsible for the deaths of seven orderlies. Another seventeen were killed by a young girl known as the 'Seamstress', who murdered children and used their bodies as her own life-sized dolls."

Anastasia looked up from her phone, interrupted from her article. She'd been tapped on the shoulder.

"We're almost there," the girl sitting behind her said, albeit quietly.

"Thanks," Anastasia muttered.

"I... I uh, think we should probably introduce each other, because, uh, y'know. We are going to a party together... And uh... Yeah," the girl in the back of nervously finished.

"I'm Anastasia," Anastasia said, sighing. The girl in the back was almost too painfully awkward for her patience.

"Alya. I mean, that's my name," the girl in the back said with a nervous laugh.

"How 'bout him?" Anastasia asked, jerking her head towards the boy in the back.

"He's got earphones on. On his head?" Alya said.

 _Where else would they be?_ Anastasia wondered with her characteristic smirk. She liked the nervous girl in the back, despite the fact that she was hopelessly awkward and only the slightest bit tedious.

Alya tapped the boy's shoulder, stirring him from his music.

"Y'ello?" The boy greeted.

"We were just introducing each other."

"Oh. Bit late for that, isn't it?" He asked.

Alya considered this. "Better late than, uh, never. I guess."

"Ok. I'm Ignacio Inglesias. You can call me Igni."

"So you guys got letters too?" Anastasia asked, shifting a little in her pleather seat to get a glimpse at her cohorts.

Ignacio was a thin guy with dark Latino skin. He definitely had a sort of "skater-boy" look that Anastasia knew most girls loved.

Alya, on the other had, was dressed rather conservatively in some long-sleeved dark blue dress, as well as a faded red scarf wrapped around her head, hiding her hair. She was pretty though, dark eyes and all that.

Alya nodded in response to Anastasia, then opened her purse. After a few seconds of rummaging, she pulled out an envelope, holding it up for the others to see. "It said I won. Well, uh, an academic prize or something to be specific."

Ignacio nodded. "That's what mine said. Not like I'm some genius or anything. Don't know why I got a letter."

Anastasia nodded. _I don't know either_ , she added to herself.

They made small talk the rest of the way to Trinity Heights. As Anastasia unpacked her bags from the trunk of the parked cab, she couldn't help but pause and listen over the sound of falling snow and wind.

She could have sworn she heard screaming.

 **XxXxX**

 **Sorry for my absence readers, but it has been a busy week, especially with classes starting back up. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, especially since it's the second to last before the real chills begin! I personally can't wait. There is still one slot open for new readers, one male. Otherwise for everyone else, please review and critique as you see fit. Also, if everyone wouldn't mind messaging me what your character thinks about the other OCs, that would be greatly appreciated! Anyway, Happy New Year**!


	9. Graham Building: Beginning of the End

The party was held in an elaborate hall named, oddly enough, the "Dining Hall". One of the largest rooms in the Graham building save for the entrance hall, the dining hall was ornately decorated with dark oak furniture: a long polished table lined with chairs, a wooden bookshelf (which Caleb suspected was more for show than utility), and one wall of large windows offering a view of a courtyard and some dim old buildings. Behind the dining table was an open area which Caleb suspected was for dancing once upon a time.

"Great party," Ivy said sarcastically, almost having to shout over the loud pop music streaming through two speakers nearby.

"It's not too bad," Caleb replied. "Though it would be better if they served the food soon." His stomach had been rumbling ever since he, Chance, and Elle had stepped into the dining hall.

"Yeah man. I'm starving," Theo said, rejoining the group. He'd been drifting around for the better part of an hour, talking to people and stepping outside the door for "breaks", which Caleb suspected, perhaps harshly, that Theo was using for drugs.

"The whole 'no staff' thing is getting really ridiculous. I mean I'm starting to think we're not even in the right hotel," Ivy said with a toss of her hair.

Before Caleb could reply, the door into the Dining Hall swung open. Three kids entered; one was a pretty younger looking girl covered in tiny silver scars with long burgundy-brown hair, followed by her exact opposite, another young girl with pale soft skin, near-black hair, and icy blue eyes, and finally an older boy with a strong, slender build and dark wavy hair.

The first girl, the one with the scars, glanced around, scanning the crowd. Despite her healed wounds, she didn't look too menacing. In fact, she looked very friendly. Caleb waved to the three.

The girls waved back. The boy sneered.

"Damn! He's hot," Ivy murmured. "Not that you guys aren't," she added, "but he is fine."

Caleb watched as the newcomers dropped their luggage off in a corner with everyone else's bags. Then the girls made their way to Caleb's posse while the boy introduced himself to Elle, interrupting her from her conversation with Chance, who, in turn, looked pissed.

"Hey!" The first girl greeted, smiling brightly. "I'm Tori, and this is Sloan," she added pointing to her comrade with the scars.

"Hi guys," Sloan said, giving a soft smile and nodding politely.

"I'm Ivy," Ivy said, "that's Caleb, and that's Theo. Welcome to the party."

Before anyone else could speak, there was a loud bang. Caleb turned around to see that Chance had shoved Atticus into a wall, pinning him there by his shirt and shoulders. Atticus fought to free himself, but Chance had too good a grip, and no wonder. Atticus looked strong, but compared to Chance he could have been a rag doll.

"Hey! Stop that! Get off of him!" Elle futilely shouted, slapping Chance's shoulder. The boy hardly seemed to notice. He drew one fist back to hit Atticus, but before he could land it, a loud crackle of static broke over the speakers, cutting the music off. Caleb covered his ears in discomfort.

"That's enough. Let him go," a voice said over the speaker once the static cleared. This seemed to be enough for Chance to drop Atticus, both boys angrily stalking away from one another.

"Welcome, everyone, to Trinity Heights Mental Institution. I take it you all are having fun?" The man on the speakers asked. He had a raspy voice, grating on Caleb's ears like sandpaper.

"I wasn't quite expecting a fight to break out so early on, but that's why I get for inviting young adults to an isolated location without supervision, eh?" The intercom man laughed, a sour gurgle.

"You aren't all just normal teenagers though, are you?"

With that, everyone broke into murmurs.

"What does he mean?" Tori asked.

"'Course we're normal," Theo protested.

"I am definitely not normal. Have you seen this face hombre?" Igni joked.

"No, you aren't normal at all. Sirens. Witches. Demons. They called me crazy, but I knew. I. Knew," the intercom man's voice grew softer, colder. "Well who's crazy now?"

The man sighed. "That's all behind us now, isn't it? What you all really want to know is why you were invited here. Please, take a seat at the table, it's going to be a long story."

Caleb looked at Ivy, shrugging. She returned his confused glance, but like the rest of the gathered teens, she seemed to be stunned into silence.

Everyone took a seat at the table. Caleb sat between Sloan and Ivy, and still no one talked.

"You seem to be missing a few. Ah, yes. The girls in the chapel. They will pay dearly for trespassing, in good time."

"Pay?" Chance yelled, "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"All in good time, Chance Montgomery. Now that most of you have gathered, I should probably announce my intentions for you. All of you are special in some way. Different. Sub-human."

"Why that's preposterous!" Said Rosalind, clearly flustered.

"Please refrain from opening your mouth, Ms. Rosalind. Actually, refrain from opening either of them. If any of you were unaware, Ms. Beauchamp is a Futakuchi-onna, a rare creature comprising of two separate sentient beings in one body. Well, mostly in one body. You see, the young Miss has an extra mouth on the back of her–"

"Shut up! Shut up! No one needs to hear your lies!" Rosalind shot up, slamming her hands on the dinning table. Then she seemed to remember herself. Patting her hands on her dress to straighten it out, she sat back down. "That's all they are, anyway. Lies."

"You aren't the only abnormality here, Ms Beauchamp. In fact, every young adult gathered here tonight is in some way attuned to the occult. Werewolves," Caleb jumped a little at this, "witches, demons, the whole lot. They called me crazy when they admitted me to Trinity Heights the first time. 'No such thing as ghosties and goblins', they told me. But you're all here, aren't you? You're right where I want you."

"What do you want with us?" Shouted a frightened Hinoki. The poor boy looked terrified.

"You're crazy!" Chance screamed, throwing in a few colorful words for good measure. The room erupted into protest, but all Caleb could do was stare at the table in front of him. Somehow the man had known Caleb was a werewolf. How could he have known? Caleb had been so careful, oh so careful, to hide his beastly identity.

"Everyone settle down!" The raspy-voiced man interjected. "Thank you. What do I want with you? Well, firstly I want to expose you to the rest of the world. I was tortured this hellhole of a facility because I knew vermin like you all existed. So you all are going to feel my pain in due time."

"You see, I have devised a little scenario for each of you. You are all going to play a little game, a competition so to speak. I will be dividing everyone here into teams. You will compete on a daily basis for your teams victory– and for your own personal survival."

The group broke into uproar. Some shouted "Let us leave!", while others called for an explanation on "survival".

"Shut the hell up! The lot of you are going to be difficult. As I was saying, in these games you will be divided into two teams. Every day you will be given a new challenge. I will be filming you all throughout your stay at the asylum. Your challenges will be broadcasted live through an online webseries. I will expose your kind to the world. No one will ever call me crazy again."

"If you wish to survive your stay in the asylum, you will need to rely on your own abilities, as well as on your team. After every challenge, at least one of you will be, let's say, eliminated."

After a brief outburst of protest, the intercom man continued.

"Now for the teams. Staying in Ward A will be Eliade, daemon; Caleb, werewolf; Casimir, noken; Ignacio, being of fire; Chance, demon; Elle, siren; Sloan, hound of hell; Ivy, witch; Dana, lion djinn; and Calida, being of fire.

"In Ward G will be Hinoki, dryad; Elijah, sorcerer; Theodore, necromancer; Brennan, trickster being; Atticus, dhampir; Mae, clairvoyant; Alya, jinn; Anastasia, demon; Rosalind, futakuchi-onna; and Victoria, angel."

"Both teams will find their respective wards to be fully furnished with clean beds, working bathrooms, electricity, and other general amenities. Before I leave you, I will give you a warning. This asylum is still alive, even though the last residents left over thirty years ago. The spirits of those first doctors, nurses, and patients still roam these halls. Be weary. That is all. I will check in on you all again tomorrow morning for your first challenge." There was an awkward pause, then, "Oh, and one more thing. Your roommate assignments will be outside each room. I suggest you all go straight to sleep. You're going to need it."

 **XxXxX**

 **I want to preface this author's note by profusely apologizing for the wait. Between school and snowmagedon, it's been a few crazy weeks. I do, however, hope you all enjoy the chapter! Updates should be every week or two, and starting with the next chapter, the games will begin! If you guys haven't heard it, I listened to the song "Long Way Down" by Gary Numan (for Evil Within) while writing the last portion of this chapter, so I highly suggest you look it up! It's creepy haha. Anywho, thanks for reading and I am truly sorry for the wait.**


	10. In the Shadows: Challenge 1, Part 1

**MAE**

 _"Am I late?" Mae had asked, barging through the doors of the Graham Building. Her blue skirt had been hiked up above her ankles to allow her to speed into the room, and her elaborate hairstyle, somewhat reminiscent of the complex updos of the 1800's, looked somewhat messy, as if it had fallen slightly out of its fancy bun in the girl's haste._

 _Of course the room was completely silent when Mae had entered, much to the girl's displeasure. She disliked drawing too much attention to herself. Mae was even more disheartened to see the expressions on the other teens' faces: most of them stared into the distance vaguely; some wore masks of rage. One boy had burst into tears._

 _"W-what have I missed?" Mae had asked._

 _One of the boys, handsome and well built, had given her a cruel smile._

 _"Welcome to hell."_

 _One of the girls, Rosalind, informed Mae of the situation while the other teens packed their bags to take to their rooms. Of course Rosalind had wanted to know what kind of creature she was, to which Mae had responded that she was a clairvoyant. A group of the braver guys had gone in a group to see if there was any escape over the asylum's walls. They were unsuccessful. Apparently the walls were too slick, and the gate was locked and unclimbable in the first place. Not to mention the snow was picking up._

 _Nobody knew which team the intercom man had said Mae was supposed to be on, so in the end she decided to join Rosalind in Ward G. A sign at the entrance of the ward gave the room assignments:_

 _Hino and Theodore_

 _Elijah, Atticus, and Brennan_

 _Rosalind and Alya_

 _Tori and Anastasia_

 _It had been quickly decided that Mae would room with Rosalind and Alya. Most people went directly to bed, not wanting to mill about knowing that at any moment they might be subjected to the tortures promised by the man on the speaker. Some still appeared to be in a state of disbelief, and Theodore had even said that he believed this all would prove to be some elaborate prank on the end._

 _Mae didn't think so. Something about the asylum seemed very... dark. A history that Mae could feel. She knew she was probably just being a little paranoid, but in this place, and with Mae's clairvoyant abilities, she couldn't be so sure. It was a miracle that Mae had fallen asleep at all. The fear that she'd seen in the other kid's eyes? It was real._

Mae woke up to complete darkness.

"Rosalind?" She called. She was lying on the floor as opposed to her old asylum cot, the chill of concrete seeping into her bones. "Alya?"

Her voice echoed, clearly she wasn't in her room anymore. "Hmm."

Mae stood up, brushing dirt off her nightgown.

"This is an odd predicament," she muttered to herself.

"Victims, creatures, monsters and the like, welcome to your first challenge," a voice said from a speaker over head. Mae could only assume it was the voice of the intercom man whom she had heard so much about.

"Your first task will be simple: find your way back to the Graham Building. I must warn you; the shadows harbor some deadly creatures. I would stay in the light as often as possible. You may now begin your first challenge."

Mae looked around. Wherever she was, it was too dark to see much. Dragging her bare feet across the floor and rubbing sleep from her eyes with one hand, she stretched the other one out, bracing against a wall that was almost invisible in the darkness. Shuffling carefully forward, she kept one arm outstretched for safety.

One thing was certain:

Mae had an almost psychic feeling that bumping into a wall would be the least of her problems.

 **VICTORIA**

Tori was, in a word, freaked out. Sure, waking up in a strange place was scary. No one was denying that. Hearing voices? Now that was flat out terrifying.

Walking down the hallway, Tori could almost feel something with her.

Make it to the light, Tori coached herself, wrapping her arms tightly around her body. You're an Angel of the LORD. You fear nothing. No one is going to hurt you here.

While Tori did feel slightly better for a while, any confidence she had was shattered when she heard a scream further up ahead in the darkness.

The girl whipped around, sprinting in the opposite direction of the noise. She could swear she heard someone else's footsteps behind her, chasing her. Getting closer. Too close.

Then, mercifully, up ahead, Tori could see a light. Nothing too great. Just a dim speck in the darkness. A beam of yellow light that fell upon a white wall. As Tori raced closer, she could tell the light was coming from a discarded flashlight.

"I would stay in the light as often as possible." The intercom man had said that, Tori remembered. Maybe the light could help her lose whatever was chasing her.

Tori screamed, diving for the flashlight. In one fluid movement, the girl was back on her feet, flashlight in hand. Risking a glance, she spun around and shined the light on her chaser.

"Ouch! Too bright!" Her stalker screamed. He was an older boy with purple hair. Tori remembered him from the "dinner".

"Why were you chasing me? I was scared half to death!" Tori scolded.

"I'm sorry," the man said, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't know who you were. And with those... those things running around... I didn't want to risk any unwanted attention."

"Things? What things?" Tori asked, crossing her arms.

The man let out a laugh. "Oh yes, forgive me. I had to use a spell to see them. They're... Well, they appear to have been people at one point. Maybe past patients? Either way, they're essentially what I like to call shadow people, demonic spirits that lurk in the darkness and are generally invisible to the naked eye. Sometimes mortals claim to see them form the corner of their eye," the man explained. "It's a good thing you grabbed that flashlight," he added quickly. "They can't stand the light."

"Wonderful. Excuse me for asking, but what is your name? I didn't catch it at dinner," Tori said.

"Elijah. Elijah Killian. You can call me Eli. Now then, if you don't mind leading the way, it would seem we have to return to the Graham Building. If you hear whispers, please tell me. From our little chase I gathered that you can run. This is good. You may need to," Elijah said.

For a while, Tori and Elijah walked in silence. Although she felt safer with a light and a companion, Tori was terrified of the idea of these shadow people. She didn't know if angels could die, but she didn't want to find out anytime soon.

From what Tori could make out in the light, they appeared to be walking around some sort of service tunnel. Plain white walls, cracked concrete floors, and low pipes made up the entirety of the unattractive surroundings. Every once in a while, the pair would pass an inspirational poster, or a sign with medical instructions, like how to perform the Heimlich Maneuver.

Then, Tori saw the blood. She screamed.

"What's wrong?" Elijah asked, gripping her wrist and pulling her behind him.

"The wall," Tori muttered, eyes wide in terror.

Splashed across the wall was a splatter of dripping red liquid. Still wet, still moving. Tori moved her flashlight down, following the splatter of blood to its source; a slumped body leaning against the wall. It's head appeared to be fractured, the blood on the wall smeared as if the victim had slid down to his final resting place. Dressed in what appeared to be a white doctor's coat marred by fat red drops, the man had been older, maybe in his fifties.

Tori had to look away. She turned around, hugging her arms around herself. When she had finally worked up the courage to look back at the body... It was gone.

"What the- Where did it go?" Tori exclaimed.

Elijah shook his head. "I don't know. It's this place. It's pulling tricks on us. Places with so much negative energy tend to do that. We should get out of here as soon as possible. Let's go."

Still shaking, Tori stood still for a few minutes to to gather her thoughts. Then she resumed her place in the lead.

"How do you know all of this? The stuff about this place, I mean," Tori finally worked up the courage to say.

"I enjoy researching and reading. It's a habit and a hobby. I'm a sorcerer, you see. Its necessary for the job."

"Sorcery. Hm. I haven't had many pleasant experiences with magic. Most of the time the magic I've seen has come from the Devil," Tori remarked, rather harshly. It was almost an accusation.

"I assure you, dear. My magic has not ties to any demonic energy," Elijah said, wearily.

The two walked on in silence, a tension in the air between them. But it immediately dispersed as Tori's flashlight beamed on a stair case.

"Thank God!" She exclaimed. Dim white light filtered down the rusted metal stairs from somewhere up above, a promising sign of escape.

"Shall we?" Elijah asked.

For now, the worst was behind them.

 **XxXxX**

 **Hello everyone! I'm finally dug out after snowpocalypse! We had close to 3 feet of snow. Any who, welcome to the first challenge chapter! Hopefully the next few installments will be longer, but I hope you guys still enjoy this one. Also, if you haven't heard, there is now a Fading Lights Roleplay Forum created by my wonderful and generous reader Cream of the Ice. Thank you for all of your work on the forum and the book cover! It's reader** s **like you that make writing worth it!**


	11. In the Shadows: Challenge 1, Part 2

**ELLE**

Theodore and Elle wandered down the dark corridor in silence. The two had met up pretty early in the challenge, having woken up pretty close to each other. Now they were trying to find their way out of the tunnels, using Elle's phone as a flashlight.

Theodore had felt the presence of spirits pretty early on; one of the perks of being a necromancer. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to be of the friendly variety. And it didn't help that Theodore's brain was still muddled from his last high, something he really regretted just about now.

"Did you hear that?" Elle said, gripping Theo's arm.

He shook his head. "What d'you mean?"

There was a faint screech from further down the hall, like rusted door hinges or squeaky wheels on a cart.

"That," Elle said.

"Probably nothin'," Theo shrugged. It was an old hospital. Some mundane noises were bound to happen.

"Nothing? We are trapped in the freakiest hallway in existence and you even said there were ghosts down here! Why the hell would that be nothing?" Elle shouted, forgetting her fear momentarily.

"Oy, no need to get all cranky. Want me to go check it out?" Theo asked.

Elle nodded.

Theo sighed. "Right. I'll be right back."

"Have you ever seen a horror movie? Whenever someone says 'I'll be right back,' they die!" Elle said, watching him disappear down the dark corridor.

Waiting for Theo felt like an eternity. Elle could feel eyes on her, scanning her and testing her in the darkness.

Then there were footsteps.

"Theo?" Elle called.

There was no reply.

"Theo? If you're out there– this isn't funny."

Still nothing. Elle's body tensed. She waved her phone-flashlight around trying to pin the source of the footsteps. All of the sudden, two powerful hands grasped Elle's shoulders. She jumped, the hands letting go. Whipping around, Elle came face to face with– Chance.

"Chance! I'm going to kill you!" Elle screamed, furious.

The boy just laughed. Chance was hardly dressed, simply wearing a pair of black basketball shorts, giving Elle a magnificent view of his lean body, his washboard abs– but she refused to get distracted by this. Well she tried to. For a second or two.

"This place is already freaky enough without creeps like you roaming around."

"Creeps? I take personal offense to that," Chance joked, finally catching his his breath. "Come on, let's get out of here. You heard the man," Chance said gesturing up to the ceiling with his jaw. "It's 'dangerous' down here." He smiled mischievously.

"Hold up. I was with Theo. We heard a noise. He went to go check it out, and I told him I'd be here."

Chance gave Elle a look she translated to mean "whatever".

The two waited for a while, making small talk, flirting a little. All the while Elle couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong.

 **SLOAN**

Sloan wasn't afraid of anything. She was a hellhound, after all. She's hunted the fiercest demons, fought the toughest monsters. It was all in her line of duty; protecting the weak and powerless of the super-human community from those who would do them harm.

This challenge was a walk in the park for her. She'd already tapped into the hound side of her existence, the large dog like beast she was able to transform into if she so desired, in order to use her canine hearing and sense of smell, hopefully giving her the edge on finding a way out.

The firsts scents she picked up were to be expected; mold, rats, rust. She could smell fear, most likely from the others, but it was hard to pinpoint any one direction to follow.

Then there was another scent. Deep, metallic, earthy. The unmistakable smell of blood. And it was close.

Sloan considered ignoring it, convicted it was some kind of trick, or maybe a hallucination from her own uneasiness. But no; the smell persisted, and Sloan knew she needed to check it out. Someone down there could be injured, or worse.

The smell was luckily pungent enough for Sloan to track, and even in the total darkness of her momentary prison, she had a good sense of her surroundings. Even so, she picked her way in the dark very carefully, moving slowly and quietly so not to attract any unwanted attention.

As the smell grew stronger, a pit sunk in Sloan's stomach. She could already tell there would be a lot of blood; more than likely whoever had been injured was dead by now anyways. She still needed to know for sure.

The smell was overwhelming now, so close yet–

Sloan stopped. The scent seemed to be coming from the wall. Hitting the surface, she realized it wasn't a wall at all. It was a door. After a few seconds of fumbling for a doorknob, Sloan shoved the door open. The rusted hinges squealed, too loud for her liking. She slipped inside, carefully closing the door behind her.

The room was strangely illuminated by some sort of yellow light. It took Sloan a second to find its source: a discarded flashlight. She picked it up, shining the light around to get her bearings.

The room she entered appeared to be some kind of office or workspace. The only furnishings in the room appeared to be a desk and some filing cabinets. Scattered on the desk and all across the floor were papers. One thing that was missing, however, was any blood. Sloan knew the scent had come from this room, yet even now the smell was untraceable, as if it had just disappeared.

Shaking her head in confusion, Sloan decided to leave the room and find a way out, but as she was making her way to the door, there was a loud bang from behind her. Muscles tensing, she whipped around. It appeared the bang was caused by a desk lamp falling, but Sloan scoured the desktop just in case.

That's when the files caught her eye.

Marked "Cult Cases," the file was ordinary enough. Sloan picked the folder up and opened it.

The first document in the folder appeared to be a diary entry.

 _July 24th, 1945_

 _We receive more and more shell-shocked veterans everyday. They come by the bus-load, they're empty eyes and thin bodies stirring a sadness in anyone who looks at them. I cannot express my absolute pity for those poor souls._

 _Yesterday, I caught Janet sneaking a syringe from the operating room. I told her to put it back. She complied. I would have reported her to the Professor, but, truth be told, I'm forth tends of Janet and her "gang", Marisa and Peg. Those girls are nothing but trouble; pretty on the outside but demons on the inside. The most wretched nurses I ever did see._

 _On top of that, I overheard the Professor speaking to one of the guards. They found a body outside the chapel. A body with strange lacerations on the wrists and chest. I tremble to think of who could have done such a thing; my mind wanders back to those three girls._

 _No one told me that being a nurse in a mental institution would be easy or safe, but I have never feared for my own life more than I do now._

 _-Celine_

Sloan shook her head, rereading the last paragraph. If Trinity Heights was this messed up seventy years ago, then such negative energy could certainly exist now. Sloan had seen many a haunting caused by centuries of hate and depravity; hunted demons that fed on the negative emotions tied to certain locations.

Sloan flipped the diary page over. The next document was a news article.

 _TRIPLE SUICIDE AT MENTAL INSTITUTION_

 _August 14th, 1945_

 _Last Sunday night, the bodies of three nurses were found hanged from the rafters of the St. James Chapel on the campus of Trinity Heights Mental Institution. Peggy Miles, 23, Marisa Streett, 18, and Janet Hope Dunsten, 26, were nurses at the institution._

 _"They were nice girls, really sweet and pretty. I don't know why they'd do something like this," said Professor Hayes, lead researcher at Trinity Heights._

 _"They came to Mass every Sunday, cared for the sick– this is, simply put, quite a tragedy," said Father Emile, resident chaplain of St James._

 _So far, not motive has been identified for the triple suicide, and foul play has not been ruled out as a possible explanation._

 _Trinity Heights is no stranger to murder. In the early 1900's, the Institution was plagued by a string of child murders committed by the 19-year-old Temperance Devereux, known as the "Doll Killer". In its earlier history, a mass slaughter committed by the criminally insane inmate known as the "Gardener" has been recorded._

 _Wherever the mentally disturbed are involved, violence is sure to follow. One cannot help but wonder: are these apparent suicides more than they seem?_

Sloan flipped over the paper to the last document, another news article.

 _CULT TIES CONFIRMED IN SUICIDE CASE_

 _October 13, 1945_

 _After examination of the rooms of triple suicide victims at Trinity Heights Mental Institution, cult ties have been confirmed. Pagan books, knives, and even hidden stashes of dried animal organs were found in the dorm of Janet Hope Dunsten. Symbols found in one of Dunsten's books were also found carved into the flesh of other murdered Trinity Heights patients earlier this year._

 _"As far as we can tell now, it seems the Dunsten girl may have killed the other girls found hanged with her before committing suicide herself, or all three girls were involved in the cult," said Police Chief Suthers in a press conference late last night._

 _As the case comes to a close, more concerns have been raised over possible cultist infiltration amongst other nurses and doctors in the institution._

Sloan shut the folder. It was just as she suspected. She had dealt with plenty of cases of demon-worshipping mortals before, and they never ended well. Perhaps that was the reason behind the paranormal nature of the asylum?

Satisfied with her discovery, Sloan placed the folder back on the table.

Flashlight in hand, she crept out into the dark hallway, ready to face whatever evil came her way.

 **BRENNAN**

Brennan had been huddled in a corner, arms right around himself and wishing the darkness away when Hinoki had found him. The dryad boy had been carrying a flashlight he had found in some hallway.

"Hiya!" He had called. "You here by yourself? You don't have to be sad, you can come with me!"

And so, Brennan went, the two wandering the dark hallways together.

The entire time, Hino talked and talked, not minding one bit that Brennan had made no effort to respond, nor did he seem to care about the apparent gravity of the situation.

"Oh, and this one time, I was home alone... Actually I was home alone a lot, considering I never really left home before I came here... But anyway, I was home alone, and– Did you hear that?" Hino said, perking his ear up.

Brennan shook his head. To be fair, he couldn't really hear anything besides Hino's chatter.

"Sh-shhh," Hino shushed, despite Brennan not saying a word. "There it is again."

Brennan strained to listen to whatever it was Hino had heard.

Then, very faintly, he did hear it.

"Theo! Theodore?" Came a call. It sounded like one of the girls, possibly Ivy or Elle.

"Elle! Elle, is that you?" Hino screamed at the top of his lungs, making Brennan's heart race.

"I- I don't think you should scream," Brennan muttered.

"You can talk! I was worried for a second that you didn't know how!" Hinoki said.

The loud bang from behind the two boys made both of them scream.

Whipping around, Brennan saw– a potted plant.

"What–?" He began to say.

"My tree!" Hino exclaimed. "That's my tree. Every Hamadryad has one. Or rather, we are born from the tree, tied to it, exist because of it. I wonder what it's doing here? I thought I left you in my room..."

Hino wandered towards the plant.

"Hino, I don't have a good feeling. I think you should leave it..." Brennan warned.

"I can't just leave it! That's a silly idea!" Hino said.

The tree boy bent over to pick up the potted plant, but as he did, suddenly a pair of arms materialized out of the shadows. Hino screamed, struggling to break free from his captors. A gurney rolled from out of the darkness, wheels squealing. Hino's captors, two doctors, Brennan assumed, from their long white coats and medical masks, strapped Hino to the rolling bed. The boy continued to thrash. Brennan was frozen in fear. One of the doctors stooped down to pick up Hino's small bonsai tree while the other began to roll Hino down the hallway into the darkness.

"Help me! Brennan! Please, don't let them take me! Brennan!"

Hearing his name, Brennan snapped out of his fear-paralysis. He transformed himself into a cat, took a quick sniff of the air to find his bearings, then scampered off in the opposite direction of Hino, leaving the tree boy to fend for himself.

 **XxXxX**

 **Hello again readers! What do you guys think? Is Hino doomed? Will somebody come to his rescue? Let me know what you guys think in the reviews!**

 **Also, now that we have our first character disappearance, I must please ask that owners of characters who disappear or are killed respect the author's decision. The last thing I need are a list of complaints about why such and such character should not be dead.**

 **Thanks again guys! Hope you all are enjoying the story thus far!**


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